


An Old-Fashioned English Country Christmas

by DixieDale



Category: Clan O'Donnell - Fandom, Garrison's Gorillas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:35:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21839062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DixieDale/pseuds/DixieDale
Summary: They'd planned on an old-fashioned 'English Country Christmas'; at least that was what was listed on their Theme of the Month for December.  Thanks to that unexpectedly complicated mission, that wasn't quite what they ended up with.
Kudos: 4





	An Old-Fashioned English Country Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> This was written after listening to my absolute favorite music cd for this (and any!) time of the year, Jimmy Keane and Robbie O'Connell (and their guests) performing as Aengus - 'All On A Christmas Morning'. To my fond ear, Robbie O'Connell's voice fits very well with the 'Mickey O'Dell' incarnation of a certain Cockney pickpocket. My fervent thanks to the artists for the gift of this lovely music. While the songs mentioned are traditional in origin (except for 'Three Kings'), they were adapted for this group by the artists.

The Mansion - December 11th:

"Shit, man! You couldn't make this stuff up, ya know??!" Casino laughed after going over the list of what Mrs. Wilson had explained could be in the offing should they decide to stage their own 'old-fashioned English Country Christmas'. None of them knew much about it, not even Goniff, being he was from the city, but it was one of their monthly themes, and one Garrison had actually nodded and said it was fine. Yes, he'd been a little distracted at the time. Of course, Garrison might have paid more attention if he'd heard all the old washerwoman was describing, and frankly, the guys were having second thoughts now. Getting a horse's skull might just be an issue, even if nothing else was.

"Each country has its own customs, Casino, and some are quite incomprehensible to anyone on the outside. Still, I must admit, the English country custom of mumming is one of the more, how do I put it? Colorful ones?"

"Yeah, colorful's ONE of the ways to describe it, alright! Father Christmas - which at least makes some sense - St. George and the dragon, mixing it up with Robin Hood, and some Turkish knight, a quack doctor, and with Maid Marion cheering it all on. And a horse that's really a painted horse's skull and couple a guys in a costume looking to kick your teeth in or bite your nose off! Not to mention the play-acting, guys dressing up like dames and all. Tell em to put on a skirt any other time, they'd deck you, but mention it's part of that 'pantomime' shit and they're all smiles and nods."

"We could go caroling, instead," Goniff offered, with an eager smile on his face. "Seen people do that sometimes. A lot easier than dressing up like some knight or a 'orse or something like that, or putting on a play."

That got him a mocking hoot from Casino, with the safecracker reminding him, "Goniff, you sing like a frog, and I don't mean some Frenchman neither! Now, me, I could carry it off, and Beautiful here, I kinda figure he could too. Don't know about the Indian; never heard him try."

That got him an injured look from Goniff, and a icy stare from Chief, who informed Casino that "I don't INTEND to try, and I don't see any reason for standing around in the cold singing all night long."

"Wouldn't just be standing, Chiefy," Goniff urged, nodding earnestly. "You'd be walking, going from place to place. And maybe those you'd be singing to would offer you a drink or something. That'd be nice, wouldn't it?"

For some reason, the idea had resonated with their Englishman, and obviously he wasn't going to turn away from the notion so easily.

"What does Meghada think of the whole idea, or did you mention it to her?" Chief asked, ignoring Casino's grumblings.

Goniff flushed, "well, 'aven't really mentioned too much, either what Mrs. Wilson was saying, or the singing or anything else. Aint 'er 'oliday, you know. She does what she calls the Winter Solstice, though she does 'and out little baskets to special friends what DO celebrate Christmas, coming up on the 25th. Even 'as a special little thing she says when she does it, all formal-like - 'may this make the celebration of your 'oliday brighter'. You remember, like what she did last year. Says it's what her Clan does to show they understand and respect that the time's special for some others, even if it's not something they do themselves."

"Don't figure she'd mind all that much, you asking, at least when it comes to the music. You know she sings lots a different stuff; told us she can't forget a song once she's heard it, even if she wants to," Chief offered.

"That's true enough," Goniff admitted. "Worked with the tikes over at the orphanage for their Christmas music, she 'as. Don't think there's many she don't know." He hid a smile, thinking of the music she'd shared with him, that being as much fun as the reading and all the rest they shared.

They hadn't gotten too far in their plans when they heard the car drive up outside.

"Don't know we should mention that horse's head to the Warden. You know how he can get, sometimes," Casino said, and the rest had to agree. Sometimes Garrison got the oddest notions, got upset about the silliest things.

Instead of stopping in the office below, they heard the footsteps coming straight up the stairs, and they gave each other a highly apprehensive look. There was just something about that entrance that didn't bode well. When the door opened and their lieutenant walked in, grim look on his face, they knew they'd been right.

"Okay, listen up. We've got a job," Garrison had told them, briefcase in hand. "HQ promises this will be a quick one, in and out; we should be back in plenty of time for you to finish planning whatever you have in mind for Christmas." 

It went unspoken that, first, HQ made a lot of promises that were never kept, and second, each time they went out, there was a good chance they wouldn't be coming back at all, much less on a certain timetable. There just was no sense in voicing any of that, well, except for Casino's cynical "yeah, seems we've heard that before, Warden."

"We'll have company on this one," that getting a groan and roll of the eyes from the men. 

"Not another ride-along, Lieutenant," Goniff complained. "Don't those blokes 'ave desks they should be riding instead?"

Garrison laughed, "I don't think either of these two are much for desk duty," turning to greet Meghada and Ciena who'd just walked in. The mood brightened considerably; the two young women were not only quite capable field agents but good company as well. No, they wouldn't mind them coming along, not at all. 

Somewhere on the Continent - December 25th:

It wasn't where they'd hoped to spend Christmas, this tiny encampment of warrior refugees. Garrison wasn't even sure which country they were in anymore; the borders were rather vague, even to his excellent memory.

"The dialect is not quite what I am accustomed to, Craig, but I can understand them well enough to get by. They are asking us to join their celebratory revels, such as they are. I had quite lost track of the date, but according to their leader, this is Christmas."

Yes, it was easy enough to lose track; they'd left England on the 12th, sometime in the wee hours, and since then had been in Germany, later France, and then criss-crossed various other less-obvious places that might have been part of either of those two or somewhere quite different. They'd also taken part in far more action than they'd planned on, far more than HQ had known, or at least had admitted to knowing, was in the offing. That they were all unbloodied, if more than a little weary, was pretty much a miracle.

"We really need to keep going," Garrison started to say, but hesitated. These people had been welcoming, offering food and shelter, even though they seemed to have not much to share, from the looks of it. And the team needed a rest, all of them, before they started on the long trek to a possible exit point.

"Alright, tell them thanks, Actor, and that we are most grateful for their hospitality." He was rewarded by the sighs of relief from his men and the two O'Donnell sisters who had accompanied them. Yes, they all needed some rest.

There was food, a simple stew with bread, and some sort of hard cider, and afterwards there was music, if not the sort most of the team were used to - flutes, whistles, improvised drums, concertina, a few things not so recognizable.

There was some singing, words and cadence being pleasant if unfamiliar. Finally, a pleading gesture from Meghada, a smiling nod in return, and the requested instruments were handed over to the two women - and after a moment of hesitation, one of Garrison's men held out his hands for the oddly-shaped thing that had sounded a little like a cross between a guitar and maybe a harp. 

The Englishman tentatively ran an experimental finger over the strings, tapping gently here and there over the instrument, til he gave Meghada a firm nod of approval. He hadn't turned his face toward Garrison or the other men, and even after he settled back with the 'guitar' in his arms, he didn't meet their questioning eyes.

Actor gave Garrison a look of inquiry, {"what is he doing?"}, getting a puzzled shrug in return. Yes, the two O'Donnell sisters, that made sense - music was as much a part of them as breathing, but Goniff?

And then a low word or two and the music started, flute accompanied by the 'guitar' and concertina, a medley of jigs by the sound of it, Goniff proving his fingers were quite as nimble on the strings as in their more accustomed activities, not only playing but alternately tapping out the part of the drum on the hollow base right below the strings. 

From the grins on the faces of their hosts, it was quite acceptable, even if something a little different than what their own music sounded like.

The next was something at least Actor recognized, a carol from Brittany, and the con man had smiled in pleased recognition and nodded in time, thinking he might just add the words to go along with the music. He was quite familiar with this one from his time in France, well enough to sing it most adequately.

And then, before he could open his mouth to start, there was a male voice one half step ahead of him, strong Celtic lilt flavoring the words even though they were in French, and Actor sat silent, stunned in disbelief. 

{"Mickey O'Dell is back! And how can he SING in French, when he can't SPEAK French, even to order a beer??!"} Garrison noted, shaking his head with a mixture of amusement and fondness as 'Le sommeil de l'enfant Jesus' came in the Englishman's distinctive voice. 

{"Actor looks like someone just slammed him with a brick, and Casino's not much better. Chief just seems amused; obviously this isn't the first time he's heard Goniff sing. You know, I think maybe I'm jealous; why didn't I know he could sound like that? I mean, he sounds like himself, sort of, well, pretty much so, but for it to touch so deep . . ."} and he risked a look of appreciation and perhaps a lot more toward his resident pickpocket, being acknowledged by a shy smile.

Another just with music, before their pickpocket switched to English for 'Drive the Cold Winter Away', the accent now a rather appealing blend of Cockney and Celts.

"Not bad for a frog, huh, Pappy?" Chief grinned at the safecracker sitting there in pure shock.

The beautiful Irish carol 'Don óiche úd i mBeithil' came next. At first it seemed to be another instrumental, mostly that guitar in Goniff's quite capable hands, with just a flute and the faint whine of the concertina winding through, adding their bits, til their pickpocket opened his mouth and let the words pour out, sending more than one shiver among those listening, whether they could understand the words or not. 

That was followed by 'Three Kings'. For that last, the sisters joined in for the background, but never crowding out that distinctive voice carrying the melody. 

Then, giving a sheepish look at the rest of his team, the Englishman laughed. "Someone else's turn now, before I really DO start croaking like a frog," he urged, and that laugh was echoed by the others, acknowledging just how he'd put one over on them. Well, except for Chief and the sisters; from them the laugh was more one of satisfaction, and the look of fierce pride from the older O'Donnell sister warmer than the fire they were sitting around.

And the others took those turns, to the pleasure of all, the highlight perhaps being a duet between Actor and Casino with 'Ave Maria'. And, yes, the sisters proved that they knew quite a few Christmas songs and had no problem with singing and playing them for the others' enjoyment, whether it was THEIR holiday or not. 

Finally the fires were banked, and blankets pulled into place, and the rest of the night spent in sleep. And in more than one heart and mind, the warmth shared this night ensured this would be one Christmas to be remembered for a very long time.

London - January 10th:

"That was an excellent job, Lieutenant, that last go around. You accomplished far more than we could ever have expected. We appreciate your going the extra mile, so to speak, especially when things got so complicated. It's a shame you had to miss Christmas, though. There was a very nice gathering at the Officer's Club, dinner and a concert afterwards - some choir from one of the local schools, I believe."

"Well, we had a job to do, Major Wills. And we made the best of it that we could, even with the additional time it took once we realized there were extra circles involved. Actually, we had a far better Christmas than you'd think, considering," Garrison had replied, an amused smile on his face, remembering. 

{"And I'd match our 'gathering', our dinner and our concert with theirs, any day. And the look on Actor and Casino's faces when Goniff started to sing? That was one of the most memorable presents I've ever had!"}

If that smile was a little puzzling, Garrison's comment was even more so, considering they'd been in enemy territory for much of December, certainly over the 25th. 

"Ah, well, I suppose you and your team making it back in one piece does count far more than missing Christmas dinner and some music," the major acknowledged.

And if Garrison chuckled all the way back to the stairs, he didn't bother to explain what he thought was so amusing. 

Now if he could just figure out why there was a horse's skull sitting on the chair in his office, or what that note from Mrs Wilson meant, "the lads said they were needing this", he'd be well content. Or, maybe, he'd be better off not knowing. Yes, the more he thought about it, he was pretty sure he was better off that way.

**Author's Note:**

> Refers to story 'Mickey O'Dell, At Yer Service'.


End file.
